


rocked to sleep

by Bloodsbane



Series: tangled weeds in concrete cracks [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon Asexual Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, aroace Daisy, nonromantic jondaisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26599471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: Jon has a nightmare. Daisy helps him fall back asleep.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Series: tangled weeds in concrete cracks [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898941
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	rocked to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> big thank you to geo for beta reading! 
> 
> terms used for jon in this chapter: cock, mound, wet/slick. there is also a brief but explicit mention of him having previously set a hard no rule wrt frontal penetration.

Daisy isn’t sure what wakes her up, exactly. It might have been a noise Jon made, or it might have been the subsequent rustling on his side of the bed. Whatever the case, she’s conscious when he slips away and into the bathroom; thankfully, he doesn’t bother to turn the light on. 

She hears him climb back in, too. Listens to him breathe as he lies there, still in the dark. Daisy wonders if she’s imagining it, the fact that she can practically follow along with his heartbeat. Nothing about him sounds like sleep. 

Letting out a slow, heavy breath, Daisy reluctantly turns her head, just enough to look at him through her messy hair. “Hm?” she grunts.

“Nothing,” Jon says back, barely a whisper. “Sorry for waking you.” 

“Mm.”

“Just…” Daisy can’t see him in the dark, but she can feel a slight tug on the blanket covering them. Maybe he’s wringing it, or picking at a loose seam -- he’s always doing that, picking and tugging on the frayed ends of her furniture, her clothes. “Just a bad dream.”

“Mm.”

“Sorry. Go back to sleep,” he says. Daisy squints at him; there’s the barest scrap of blue light sneaking in through one of her curtains, and it’s enough for her eyes to start adjusting. She can see Jon’s general outline, but it’s what she can’t see or hear that makes her certain. 

“Get over here,” she says and doesn’t give him a chance to protest. She simply reaches out one arm and drags him across the scant inches of space between them. Jon makes a little sound of surprise, but doesn’t complain or resist or anything. Just tries to find all those little spaces where he can tuck himself up into Daisy. 

It’s fine, for a while. Jon’s a bit bony, but Daisy can sleep through a lot when she wants. She’s gradually falling back into slumber when she feels Jon’s breathing stutter as he mumbles something. Then she feels his knees poking at her thigh. Wordlessly, Daisy asks what he’s up to with a rumble that stops in her chest, one she knows he can feel against his cheek. 

She gets a meek “Sorry,” in return, yet the knees persist. Daisy digs her chin into his scalp and starts to move her leg. In an instant, Jon shifts his lower half forward, enough to catch her thigh between both of his. Daisy gets the picture and moves her thigh until one of Jon’s legs is mostly hooked over her waist.

For nearly a minute, Daisy thinks that’s the end of it, a bit of extra cover and pressure to help him fall back asleep. But his breathing never settles. In dozens of small ways she would never have noticed if they weren’t currently tangled worse than yarn, she can feel the way his body telegraphs his restlessness. 

At this point Daisy feels pretty thoroughly fed up, perfectly willing to complain and push him away if he won’t settle the fuck down. Then Jon’s hips twitch in a peculiar way, and he breathes hotly against her neck, and Daisy starts to understand. 

Still, she’s not sure how to feel. Sleep calls to her; it’s very cool and dark and comfortable in Jon’s bedroom. His bed is big, his sheets are soft, and he actually invests in good pillows. The last few days have been tedious and stressful -- for both of them. They both need a good night’s sleep. 

Daisy’s instincts are telling her that this would be the way for Jon to get his good night’s sleep. 

So, with only a bit of reluctance, Daisy gently pries Jon’s face from her cleavage until she can glare at him in the dark. “What d’you need?” 

“So-”

“Stop with the apologizing,” Daisy snaps; it doesn’t have a lot of bite, though, given how groggy she is. Her voice is rougher like this, less like a hammer and more like sandpaper. Jon huffs, but doesn’t sound like he took her tone badly. That’s fine. “Just tell me, Jon. I’m tired.” 

“I… I just can’t settle,” he tells her. “It would be- a distraction. From the nightmare.” 

“Mm.”

“It’ll wear me out.” 

Daisy hums. Her hand is already creeping beneath Jon’s shirt. He sighs, tucking himself against her once more. “Be specific, Jon.” 

“...You can, ah. Jerk me off,” he whispers, voice falling soft into the crook of her neck. “And- I’m already a bit wet, just use that.” 

“Sure?” 

“It’ll be faster. Just don’t- you know.”

Daisy digs one finger into his spine, just a bit of pressure, enough to make him twitch. This was one of the first and only hard rules Jon had established when they’d started this arrangement: no frontal penetration, ever. “Yeah, I know.” 

There’s no reason to waste any time. They’re both tired, they both want to sleep. Daisy slips her hand into Jon’s sleep shorts, then beneath his briefs. 

She knows how to do this. They don’t do it often, really, but sometimes Jon doesn’t mind it, and it’s less trouble jerking him off than working him open or using a strap. So Daisy skims her fingers over the patch of dark hair and down where it’s warmer. Jon’s cock is already starting to swell from rubbing against her thigh; when Daisy slips past it, she finds enough slickness to work with. 

Jon stays relatively quiet as she wets her fingers, his breath coming out in little pants that warm her shoulder. Then she’s got him between her ring and middle finger, moving at a gentle, easy pace. His thighs flex, wanting to trap her hand in a sure grip, but Daisy’s knee keeps them pried apart. Instead Jon’s hips roll into her hand, and every minute that passes finds him closer, closer. 

Daisy can appreciate plenty about their current positions -- the warmth and smell of Jon, and his sweet little noises as he starts getting swept up in the way her fingers feel against his cock. However, with how close he is, she’s forced to angle her arm in a way that, after a time, starts to ache. “Hand’s crampin’,” she says at last, and pulls it away. Jon huffs and actually knocks Daisy’s stomach with his knee in frustration. She pushes away his waist in retaliation, holding him down firmly against the mattress with her wet hand. “Stop whining. I can finish you off fast, just got to-”

Careful of what she can’t see in the dark, Daisy rolls them over, adjusting her position until she’s settled above Jon. One knee and one arm support most of her weight, while her other knee parts Jon’s thighs. Jon is wearing loose shorts to bed, wide at the leg, so Daisy slips her hand through there for ease of access, then underneath his briefs once more. He’s still pretty wet despite the brief pause in their activities. When Daisy’s thumb touches his cock again, he squirms and rocks his hips up against her. “Daisy…”

“Got you.” Daisy adjusts her position just slightly, enough so she can get the rest of her hand against Jon. Holding his cock between two fingers, she lays her palm flat against his mound, applying pressure. With every rock of her hand, Jon pants and jolts, pushing back against her with all the fervor of someone chasing the sweet release of an orgasm that’s in sight. 

Daisy’s hand is already starting to hurt again, but that’s what the change in position was for. Rather than move her arm or wrist to rock her hand against Jon, Daisy begins to roll her hips. Her thigh, wide and heavy, pushes against her hand through Jon’s shorts. Daisy sets a steady pace, a bit faster than what she’d been doing just before, and in only a few more seconds she’s got Jon gasping into his pillow as he comes apart beneath her. 

When she pulls her hand out of his shorts, it’s a bit damp with slick, but Daisy honestly can’t be bothered to get up and go wash it. She rolls away from Jon and licks off the worst of it. Somewhat amused, she thinks it’s a good thing neither of them are fans of kissing. 

Jon, who obviously hears what she’s doing, makes a vague sound of disgust in Daisy’s direction -- as soon as he’s caught his breath, that is. But there’s no other sound from him, and in hardly a minute it’s obvious he’s fallen right to sleep. Daisy wipes her hand on the sheets, then moves back onto her stomach, one arm across his back, so she can join him. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> (and just as a note, to anyone who has left a comment on these jondaisy fics, thank you so very much! they all mean a lot to me. im hoping to write even more for this series, particularly some more non-explicit bits exploring their relationship and the setting in greater depth)


End file.
